


kitten

by gguksae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Hitch be thirstin', Humor, Mutual Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gguksae/pseuds/gguksae
Summary: It’s funny how flirtatious she becomes around random guys on the street and open bars, but when it comes to the young man who actually holds her heart, she becomes a completely different person.





	kitten

He got _tall._

That’s the first thing she notices as soon as he enters the room. Starts from the ground up, appraising his lean, toned stature; the way his long legs carry him forward, the swing in his hips, the squareness of his shoulders, the close shave, the flop of mess he calls hair lain perfectly askew, the way his eyes immediately  _brighten_  when he sees her -

“Hitch, hey!”

She pulls her bottom lip through her teeth. She wants to climb him like a tree.

“Back in one piece, I see,” she greets in her usual purr, hands placing themselves on her hips. “How was Marley?”

“One hell of a ride, I’ll tell you that.” Connie runs a hand through his hair; a habit that made her envy that hand. “Wasn’t easy.”

“Did you expect it to be a walk in the park?” Hitch’s mouth is still moving, even as a sudden pair of arms are thrown around her with exuberance, and her vision is clouded with reds and browns - Ah. Sasha. No wonder she can’t breathe.

There’s this warmth that becomes of his gaze, something that makes her heart beat erratically against Sasha’s chest - no doubt the other can feel it. “Not at all.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” Sasha chimes, pulling back to hold Hitch at arm’s length.

“Gee, Sash, you gonna let her breathe? Look at her! You knocked the wind out of her!” Connie laughs, pinching Hitch’s cheek playfully. “No wonder she’s flustered.”

“Oh, I know why she’s flustered.” Fuck. “It’s got nothin’ to do with me.”

“Eh? What are you talking about?”

Hitch glares. Sasha grins wider. _Don’t you dare, you b -_

“You’re so dense, I love you.” Sasha leans back to smack his chest lightly.

“Uhh - love you more? I thought we discussed this.”

“Yes, we did. But let’s face it - you ain’t no good at winnin’ debates.”

Hitch becomes green with envy. Sasha’s doing this on purpose, just rubbing it in further how easy her relationship with Connie is. Sure, Hitch’s grown into hers with Jean, but last time she checked Sasha didn’t feel anything romantic towards Hange-san’s successor.

_D-Did she?_

“Hey.” As if her thoughts summoned him, Jean himself stepped into her view. He’s exhausted, if nothing else. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Manicured nails creep up his left pectoral, drapes around his neck to pull him forward for an embrace that she knows she can count on. Jean may be an absolute  _ass_ sometimes, but at his core he’s a total  _dork._  The complete one-eighty of his personality can give anyone a headache, and yet she wouldn’t have it any other way. She likes having him as a companion, a shoulder to cry on ( which she has…at least  _one hundred and three_  times ), a debating partner, a confidant. Someone she can turn to for anything.

She just wishes Connie could be that person too. With maybe some kissing and handholding to go with that? Does that make her desperate, or just plain  _ridiculous?_

“So Jean gets a hug and I don’t?” Connie mutters, and Hitch  _catches_ it - “Typical.” That’s the thing. This isn’t some random infatuation or fleeting lust. This has been building over the past four years through constant encounter and spending extended time with one another - she, Connie, Jean, and Sasha, taking on the world together, one city at a time. The others are great too, but there’s something about these three nerds that made her want to stick around this place.

Especially one in particular.

Juust in case that wasn’t established already.

“You didn’t  _ask,”_  Sasha elbows him, shooting Connie a look that makes Hitch question how much he really knew.

Jean chuckles as he steps back, lifts a hand to the top of Hitch’s curls. As if she needs  _another_  reminder of her short stature. She did  _not_ give these boys permission to grow! They were fine the way they were. “You two are idiots.”

“What does that make me?” Hitch demands.

“A little  _punk.”_  Ruffles.

“Hey!” Aaand her fist flies.

But it never reaches his face. Jean catches it without falter, the pads of his fingers pressing into her knuckles. “And you  _know_ it.”

Hitch pales. He knew.

“C’mon, Potato Girl.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away.”

“Okay, but is there food involved?”

“Yes. A fuckin’ buffet. You comin’ or not?”

 _“Right_ behind ya!”

She can see right through his motive - Jean is giving her more time with Connie. She couldn’t be more relieved. And nervous.  _God._

“What’s up with them?” Connie inquires, stumped.

“Beats me.” She inhales slowly, takes a small step closer on the exhale. “Did you say something about a hug? You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

It’s funny how flirtatious she becomes around random guys on the street and open bars, but when it comes to the young man who actually holds her heart, she becomes a completely different person. He makes her shy, careful. Soft. Her voice wavers towards the end, her emotions reaching their boiling point. What if something happened to him? What if she waited and waited and waited, but he never came through that door?

“Me? Why?” Connie laughs, and her heart flutters at the hearty sound.

“Because you don’t have to  _ask_ , dum-dum.” Hitch is able to hold it in long enough for Connie to have enveloped her in his arms, encasing her in his warmth, and  _that’s_  when she crumbles. Hot tears finally escape their prison, streaming down her cheeks and she buries her face in his chest to drown them. She’s trembling, and it’s far from the chill.

Connie may not be the smartest of the group, but his intelligence is not to be mistaken for lack thereof. He knows when someone is crying, but she bewilders him for doing so and his thoughts are racing as to  _why._  Connie almost never sees her cry. Ever. She internalizes a lot, much like Jean does, so whenever she loses it she ends up having an emotional breakdown. _“Hitch,”_  he breathes her name like a prayer, cupping the back of her head to keep her there, squeezing tighter. If he could, he’d pick her up, twirl her around, go to limitless lengths until he saw that smile because she’s that important to him now.

But now wasn’t the time.

“Hey, hey…” he shushes gently, slightly swaying on the spot with her. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

 _Everything!_ She wants to scream.  _I’m feeling everything that I shouldn’t and it’s all because of you! You smiled at me and I blew it._ What comes out instead is a squeaky, “You didn’t let me come with you.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t control who comes and who doesn’t.” And just like that - “If I could, you would have been my first choice. Always.” - he says that  _one_ unbearably sweet thing that makes her tummy do the flippy thing and she gets that stupid urge to giggle like some damn school girl with a crush.

“Whatever.” Stubbornly wipes at her cheeks, pushes him away with the free hand she had. “You owe me. Big time.”

“What do you want? I’ll do anything.” A beat. “Y’know what? I’ll take you out, properly. Just you and me. My treat. How ‘bout that?”

“So what…” Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, do not freak out - “like a date or something?”

“Uh?!” The panic that shoots through Connie is adorable, his ears being the first to turn pink before the rosy color reaches his cheeks. “No! That’s not what I meant at all! I mean, if you want to, then I -” Her eyebrow rises. “Or not! Y’know, whatever you’re comfortable with - we don’t have to put a label on anything, we can just go - we could - or maybe we can do something else? Whatever you want!”

Artfully, in a small voice,  _“Whatever_  I want?”

Exasperated, “Yes!”

“Hm,” she pretends to dwell on it, tapping her chin before making her ‘decision’. “I’m in the mood for some food.” Side eyes. “Meet me in the plaza in half an hour?”

“You got it.” He winks and makes a break for it, waving his arm frantically. “See ya!”

Hitch waves back half-heartedly, fingers still curled as he disappears. Releases the breath she subconsciously had been holding.

Did she just…score a date with Connie?

* * *

Panic. So much panic.

 _Why_ did she tell him thirty minutes? There’s no way in _hell_  she’d be emotionally ready in half an hour! God,  _why_  did she have to say food…he’s probably exhausted…

She splashes her face with cold water, bended slightly at the waist. She needs to calm down. She’s hung out with him plenty of times without the others around. There’s literally no difference. Besides, what’s wrong with two friends having a candlelit dinner?

_…Shit._

Should she dress up? No, no, she must come prepared. Anything could happen. She throws on her trenchcoat - it’s supposed to be chilly tonight - and ties her hair back before heading out.

He’s already waiting for her on the bench, knee bouncing anxiously. Gaze flighty, never pausing in one direction for too long. What’s going on in that mind of is? she wonders, chewing on her bottom lip. He still looks good though. So good.

“Nervous?” she speaks up, and he instantly perks.

“Nah.” Bounces up. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” Her shoulder brushes up against his as she walks past him. “I wanna get the good seats.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, breaking into stride with her. Naturally, it takes him no time to keep up with her, his eyes drifting away from her face. “You look nice. I like your hair.”

“Thanks.” She blushes faintly. What? Okay, so he may or may not have made a side comment about how  _“pretty”_  her hair looked when it’s sported in a messy bun once and it may or may not have stuck with her ever since.

She leads him to this new restaurant that went into business shortly after his departure. She’s never been, but she heard the food was nothing short of spectacular. Having such high tastes herself, she figures he could use a change of scene. When was the last time he had some good food?

They are seated at what seems to be the center of the place, hushed whispers spreading around about the  _“heroes of the wall”_ as the two sit across from each other. Hitch’s wandering gaze befalls on his, lingers, and he grins. “What?”

“I’m no hero,” she murmurs into her palm, bashfully.

“‘Course ya are. You’re with us.” Connie leans, hands pressed together between his thighs. He always did make her feel welcomed, like she belonged in their little band of misfits.

Hitch smiles a little. “I’m an outsider.”

“Please. You fit right in, kitten.”

Kitten?

“Kitten?” She pauses mid-sip, nearly choking on her beverage. “Where did  _that_ come from?”

“Uh?” There goes that hand. “Well, uh, your face, y’know, puts me in the mind of cats and,  _erm,_  your mannerisms are very catlike because - because you’re so  _graceful!_ A-and pretty! And super confident and comfortable in your skin and I think that’s admirable.” He stammers.

Consider her floored. “Nice recovery.”

“Eh?”

 _“Kitten,”_ she echoes, tasting the name on her tongue. Thinking she wouldn’t mind him calling her that, actually… “I like it. It’s cute.”

“Really?”

Hitch hums, a mischievous glint shining through hazel colored hues. “Now I have to think of something for you.”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh yeah, baby.”

“I’m your baby?”

That…just slipped out, didn’t it.

“Don’t make it weird,” Hitch rushes it out, idly flipping through the menu.

“I dunno, I kinda like it.”

“I will punch you in the face.”

“What? I’m your baby and you’re my kitten.” Connie muses, head tilting. “‘S got a nice ring to it, don’t cha think?”

She shifts in her seat. God, it sounds _fantastic._  “I guess…” Squints. “But if you tell anyone and it gets back to me -”

“I won’t.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Swear it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, but I decided to go ahead and post this in light of chapter 102's release. Connie looks so good! 
> 
> Pooossibly a 3 part-er?


End file.
